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2014.04.18 - True Heart
Of all the fools in the world who aren't one, Batman is amongst the top of the Cat's list. After his brief altercation in New York city, he's settled himself on a prominent corner of a high rise building, literally perched atop the cracked, menacing form of an owl. Dressed in his standard black trench coat and shades, the billowing wind constantly flashes the dark tattoo of his namesake. Despite being dozens of meters in the air and on a precarious object, he has not even the slightest ounce of hesitation or lacking confidence. Simply waiting. This is a primary route for a caped vigilante, and he is bright within the full moon to those of rooftop level. It would be a disappointment, if such an invitation kept him waiting overly long. Batman has dozens of different routes through the city. He changes them frequently. After all, it would not do for one of his more lucid enemies to simply monitor him and lay a trap. The appearance of the Cat on the rooftops causes him some degree of consternation but he chalks it down to mere luck that their paths have crossed. He spies him long before he passes anywhere near to the rooftop and it is seemingly out of nowhere that he appears behind Shen Kuei. "Cat." Yet he does not turn, still perched in an almost feline crouch, wind blowing about his trench coat idly. Sunglasses reflecting the city far below. "Batman." Said in a fully respectful tone. "I felt it only proper to reveal my presence to you. Given I am under contract within Gotham. You would have found out, no matter how much I attempted to keep it quiet. I see no reason to seem subversive." Batman says nothing. He simply remains there, cloak drawn about himself. There are times when the information has to be beaten out of someone and other times when it must be coerced. Very occasionally it comes without any impetus at all save his presence. "Cat got your tongue?" Shen offers, tone almost playful, before turning to glance at the Dark Knight. Forearms rest on his shins. He seems completely unarmored, beyond the obviously advanced ceramic plates along his right arm. "I respect you as a martial artist, you know." A finger extends on each hand, and eyes close. "Yes... your chi is like a statue. Roughly carved from a thousand chips. Sanded smooth with sheer will and tenacity..." "What contract?" Batman interrupts, his voice rough and no-nonsense. There's enough going on in Gotham without stopping for conversations about chi. Such mystical things were taught to him many years ago but he never truly held much stock in the notion. "Like you said: I'll find out eventually. So tell me now." "You'll find out eventually." the Cat agrees. "But likely after I'm already done. I don't underestimate you, Batman. I'd hope I have the reputation for you to do the same." His eyes remain closed, head tilted to the side. "Mmm. Yes. Disrupted. You seem to be under great duress. Might it be... a bad case of owls?" A gloved hand pats the massive statue he sits upon. "Cats, alas, are the nemesis of any bird. It took me a little over a week to gain some interesting proof. And to be attacked by a hulking figure who called himself the Owl. ...An expert at martial arts. He could suppress his chi from me. No small feat." His arm still aches from the bruise of merely being grazed by that power suit. "If I had a weapon, I could have defeated him, but there was little reason to risk it unarmed when it was not stipulated in my contract. Although I did get a consolation prize... the Owl's DNA." Adjusting his glasses, "I was hoping to compare my notes with you. I am here to prove the Court of Owls exists. I already have. I figured an exchange of information could be beneficial to both parties." “While you’re in Gotham, you operate under my terms. If you disagree with that you can leave. If you won’t leave, I will drive you out. You seem to know enough about me to know that I’m capable of that.” That said, his eyes narrow behind his cowl, “You’re not the only one insisting on the Court of Owls. What’s to say I don’t already know who this Owl is? I’m not interested in playing games with you. If you have something to offer then offer it.” "Come, now. There's little need to be so imposing. I understand the dangers of this city well. I read what happened to Captain America. I have no interest in getting involved with your vigilante population... any more than I have." Fingers idly drum upon the head of the owl. "Although at least be reasonable. You could drive me out in the long term with your resources..." Another glance over his shoulder, mirrored shades flashing. "But I am one of the few you cannot /physically/ remove yourself. I apologize if that makes you uncomfortable." Although there's a bit of curiosity. "So you do know who the Owl is? Then I guess his DNA is of little use to you. As I said, I wanted to trade information. If you have already completed the puzzle, then I suppose our business is concluded." He's fingering something in his hands. A test tube; within it, a very small amount of blood. "Although you said insisting. Are you sceptical on the Court itself? Do you think it to be a red herring, some fake shadow cast by this Owl, using legends and myths to intimidate the city?" "Is he? Strange, but leaving Gotham is not surprising in these circumstances. But only more condemning to me that he understands what is truly going on." But then Shen Kuei looks down at the open glove, holding the vial between two fingers. "This is all that I have left of any purity. I already ran a DNA test on a public database. No convicted criminal within the world matched up. That rules out very litte, if your mind is not narrow. If you have a sample of his blood, then let's trade. Half yours for half mine. If they match, then we both win. That should be reasonable." “It isn't,” Batman replies, hand closing into a fist and falling back to his side, “This isn’t an equal partnership. You’re being permitted to operate here by me. You said yourself that the DNA doesn’t match up with anybody. What use is it to you?” He turns slightly, taking a step towards the edge of the building, “My proposal is this: give me the vial. Allow me to run a test on it. Once I’ve confirmed my suspicions I will bring you in on the case and allow you to complete your contract provide it doesn’t break the following rule – no killing. That’s the offer on the table. It is not open for negotiation. Work with me or work against me.” "..." The Cat tilts his head to the left, and then to the right. Balancing the vial on a pinky lazily, as if it held little value to him. "Permitted. A cat has freedom to go where he pleases." There's the slightest note of exasperation now in Shen Kuei's voice. "And all I said was the DNA does not match the database I used. CODIS. I'm sure you know it. Felony offenses, notable villains, and in some states, those arrested, suspected, or even convicted of misdemeanor. Armed Forces who are court martialed. Something in the area of 12 million people were excluded. Out of how many? 314 million, give or take. What's that? 3.82% of subjects ruled out." The Cat is no fool. Far from it. "Trust does not exist in my trade. You don't trust me, and you shouldn't. I don't trust you. And I shouldn't. To be honest, I do not particularly care who the Owl is. I was never required to find that out. I figured it information my employers might like to know, as a free bonus due to my exceptional service record." The vial is held up between two fingers. "Would you be interested in buying it from me?" Batman’s eyes narrow, as though he’s been stopped from departing by the offer, “What makes you think I have something you want?” "You actually do have something I want." Shen Kuei offers, finally rising and stepping down from the owl. Slowly he moves to step upon the two meter broad section of wet concrete between the looming edge of the building and the oblivion off to the side. "You are the dark angel of this city. Even in China twenty years ago, just beginning to master my art, I heard whispers of the black wings haunting a city in America, like some boogie-man. Money is meaningless to me. What I crave is a challenge." "You can buy it it from me... for the simple price of a duel. I care not whether I win or lose. I wish to see the prowess of a man who, as far as I know, is feared by all but a single person in this entire city." The vial is twirled between his fingers. "Otherwise... you'd need to fight me to retrieve this, regardless. I am not your ally. And I am not your enemy. I am a professional. I'd just give it to my employers to do with what they wish. Employers with resources to do interesting things with it. Assuming they paid me a large bonus... and I am sure they would." "Then I want it first," Batman replies, extending his hand once more, "You'll have your duel, but I want to make sure I'm looking at what you claim it is first." There's nothing about his demeanor to suggest that he is lying. Indeed, he's already stepped back and away from the edge of the roof. "..." The Cat is suspicious. Batman desires this vial badly. But why? Who is the Owl? It makes Shen Kuei more curious than he would otherwise be. "Fine. But if you wish it first, then I demand to be included in the investigation as you offered earlier. I have another item of value. A damaged laptop from a high ranking member of the Owls. Within it is untold riches in knowledge. The Fixer is not available at the moment, to my chagrin. I must work with what I have." And if Batman takes this, only to abandon the Cat... then that may be more than a little dangerous. A vengeful Cat could be an incredible annoyance in Gotham, to say the least. "Do we have a deal?" “Fine,” Batman answers, hand still outstretched and waiting for the vial, “Deal.” After a few moments, the Cat flicks the vial through the air. Despite the current of wind whirling dangerously, Batman will not need to move. It will land directly in the center of his palm. Batman looks at the vial as it lands in his palm, flicking open the top and staring into the contents for a moment. Sensors in his cowl read it, interfacing with the BatComputer to run an analysis years ahead of what most law enforcement agencies are capable of. The results on the heads-up display fit his suspicions exactly. Satisfied he steps over towards a nearby air duct, placing the vial on top of it before stepping away. He’s not about to pocket it and run, it seems. “Done.” He doesn’t wait. He doesn’t bow or take up a defensive stance. He lashes out immediately. If this Cat wants a fight then he is going to give him one. He shifts fluidly and almost imperceptibly quick, lifting his leg up at a right angle to kick out at the other man’s chest. Upwards the cat goes, but in a whirl of his legs he spins, trying to regain control of his own inertia, in order to whirl in a sudden kick, heel of his foot aimed at the Batman's head while in the midst of the grapple, an awkward but effective angle from the air. Remnant of Dick Grayson; this one is quite acrobatic. "I am a professional." he repeats. "And I am no fool. As I said. I respect you. And more than anything, I am a man of honor..." "That remains to be seen." The kick towards his head is seen and he leans back, allowing the foot to pass through the air a scant few inches before his face. Batman does not let up his assault, dropping instead to one knee and sweeping his other leg in an effort to throw the Cat off balance before he has truly regained it. "You could be trying to throw me off." Much like his namesake, once the evasion has freed him, Shen Kuei descends delicately. But his response to the incoming kick is disturbingly simple and effective. Twisting, a snap of inertia from a higher position impacts Batman's ankle, allowing the force to shift him a meter and disperse, although it might be painful. A split second later, two more snap kicks are aimed at his knee with the defending leg, each precise as a surgeon's knife. "..." Somewhere faint inside, he's getting a strange sense of deja vue. "Yes. I could. You know me well. In the end, I decided to see whether you had honor yourself. ...It seems you do. You move very well for a man of your age." “Hnh.” The Bat holds out a hand, the first kick striking his knee and eliciting a grunt from him. Painful, yes, but nothing that won’t fade in a few moments. The next kick is prepared for, once again his hands reach out to catch it in both hands and send the Cat up into the air once more. He uses the momentum to move himself as well, flipping from a kneeling position and backwards through the air to once more land on his feet and allow himself some space. The trouble with a ‘duel’ is that it calls for extensive flourishes and posturing, neither of which are core to his usual style with thugs and criminals. "...Batman. You misunderstood me." Shen Kuei states, after he lands gracefully in a crouch. "I asked for a duel. I did not ask for a spar. That means it concludes when someone concedes. ...I am going to come at you at full strength in three seconds." He then stands up, slowly exhaling. Focusing techniques. Muscles seem to lax. His center of balance looks to vanish to Bruce's trained eye, as if he could move in any direction, with no hint towards it. Stance of his feet so light, it seems a mild hop would send him a few meters into the air, as if in low gravity. The burst forward is fast. As fast as Batman has ever seen a human who is not enhanced. Special stepping techniques break the distance so quickly there's a burst of dust in his wake. An elbow brutally strikes out towards Batman's head. Whirling, his other elbow then strikes out with even greater force, aiming lower, to either take advantage of an arm being raised, or intercept a duck. Arms seem to blur, as if every move is a feint. This technique is actually most powerful against those who work on instinct; as it would only take a moment's confusion to strike out with a powerful blow, easily felt through armor, were Batman to freeze. There's no longer any question. He is in a fight with someone in the same league as Lady Shiva, Shang-Chi, Richard Dragon himself. And he is not holding back any longer. “I’m not a test.” Batman ducks low, the elbow passing over his head and through the air. Both hands raise up to meet the second elbow, catching it in his palms and forcing it back and away from himself. Once he was a creature of instinct. That instinct drove him to wander the world and taught him to live where lesser men would give up and die. No longer. Now he is a man of careful consideration and measured attacks. He does not fight back, instead he defends himself. “If you’re looking to prove something. If that’s why you’re in Gotham then you’ve made a mistake.” "..." The Cat stops then, shifting his stance backwards. "Prove something...?" He sounds genuinely confused by the statement. "I see... you are not a martial artist, are you? You don't understand. You don't yearn. To seek out fights, to test your strength against others. ...You truly are a machine, born in the darkness of this city. Just as the myths I heard as a child say." He then performs a slight bow. "There is no point to a duel when the other does not wish it. It seems indeed, you cannot offer me the trade I desired..." A glance is done towards the vial of blood set aside, but no move is made to go towards it. All things considered, he could probably get to it first, intercept a batarang, knock aside a grappling hook... but no such attempt is done. "You remind me much of the Owl." he finally offers. "A man who has sacrificed everything to commit to a personal crusade, a war of which there can be no winner. But he is not you." Again, the Cat shifts his hands, fingers extended. Assessing chi. "No. Not you. ...But he is someone you could become. He said something to me. 'Pride is an obstacle. Only success matters'. Do you agree?" A slow shrug follows. "No matter. As I said, the identity of the Owl is simply a bonus to my paycheck. If that blood is this important to you... I will not destroy our budding relationship with something so unimportant." He shifts to stand on the edge of the building now himself, trenchcoat whipping around. "But know this. The outcome of duel was already decided, had we taken it to a conclusion. If we do become enemies, and find ourself in a true fight... you would lose. The true heart of martial arts... you lack it. And I shall never lose to someone who turns it into a simple weapon." And a moment later, he steps off. Batman doesn’t return the bow nor seem to even hear as he is spoken to. Instead, once the fight is broken off he immediately moves to the duct to scoop up the vial in his hand. He immediately places it in a pouch on his belt. He knows full well who this blood belongs to. Or at least who the Computer will say it belongs to once he gets it. Its only destination is the laboratory for a brief analysis followed by a prompt trip into the furnace. Pride is an obstacle. Only success matters. ‘’True,’’ he thinks to himself, ‘’Success and the Code.’’ If this Owl is truly him – a version of him from somewhere else – then he’s forgotten that. If he’s forgotten that then he’s forgotten his discipline. That will be his downfall. His lip curls just slightly as the Cat disappears over the edge, turning and drawing his grapnel gun from his belt. He takes a moment to aim it. Considering. “We’ll see.” He sets off on his nightly rounds. Category:Log